


Rhiannon

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha Allura (Voltron), Alpha Keith (Voltron), Alpha Shiro (Voltron), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Succubi & Incubi, Aromantic Asexual Pidge | Katie Holt, Asexual Allura (Voltron), Beta Lance (Voltron), Betas can either be more alpha or more omega, Bottom Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Dubious Consent, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Incubus Keith (Voltron), Keith is a Tease (Voltron), Lance is more omega, Multi, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Nothing explicit, Omega Hunk (Voltron), Omega Matt Holt, Omega Pidge | Katie Holt, Polyamorous Shiro, Polyamory, Power Bottom Keith (Voltron), Sassy Keith (Voltron), Secondary genders are a specturm, Slow Burn, Somnophilia, Strangers to Lovers, Supernatural Elements, Switch Keith (Voltron), The Author Regrets Everything, Top Keith (Voltron), Witch Allura (Voltron), Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:00:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22826812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Lance gets his dream job as a remote programmer for Altean Biomechanics, he doesn't think twice before splurging on a new apartment with a sink that doesn't leak and a hot water heater that actually works. He gets more than he bargained for, though, when he realizes that he isn't alone in his new apartment.
Relationships: Allura/Shiro (Voltron), Allura/Shiro/Matt, Keith/Lance (Voltron), Matt Holt/Shiro
Comments: 13
Kudos: 66





	1. Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy all! I've been listening to 'Sex with a Ghost' by Teddy Hyde on repeat for days, and this is the result. The title comes from Fleetwood Mac's 'Rhiannon'. Hope you enjoy!

Lance had never been one to indulge or splurge on himself, preferring to save his money for more important things like clothes for his cat, Momo, a cream colored Ragdoll, so paying the deposit on his new apartment - a whopping $5000 not including the first month’s rent - had been a moment of exhilaration. It felt almost illegal, and he had been so giddy handing the money, in cash, to his landlord. 

And now, setting the final box on the floor of his new office in his new apartment and wiping the sweat from his brow, Lance didn’t regret a thing.

“Is that the last of the boxes?” Hunk called from the living room, breathless. 

“Yep!”

After shutting and locking the door, the sound echoing through the unfurnished apartment, Hunk joined Lance in the office, slinging an arm over his shoulder. “It’s such a nice place!”

Pride bubbled within Lance’s chest, and he beamed. “Thanks so much for all your help. I’m so excited! Did you see the sink? It doesn’t leak! No more having to listen to that damn  _ drip drip drip _ all night long!” Lance may have only been a beta, but his ears were still sensitive enough that the sound drove him insane. That alone had been enough incentive for him to move, with or without his new job - though the new job with a promised salary of over $150k a year didn’t hurt. 

Hunk hummed. “No problem, buddy. I was happy to help!” He walked over to the door connecting the office to the bedroom and leaned against the doorway, letting out a dreamy sigh. “Too bad you’re not an omega. This room is so nice and roomy. Plush carpet too. Perfect place for a nest.”

“You and Pidge have a nice place too.”

“Yeah but this place is like,” Hunk held his arms out wide, eyes sparkling. “Magical.” He nudged Lance in the ribs. “You got a good one. For cheap too!”

It hadn’t felt very cheap, but Hunk was right. Apparently they had trouble keeping anyone in the apartment for more than three months, so the landlord had been more than willing to drop the price by a few grand so long as Lance signed a binding contract that stated he would live there for at least a year. Being in the apartment now, breathing in the good energy and thinking about how perfect everything would look, the claims seemed lucrative. How could anyone not want to live there?

A meow at his feet drew him out of his thoughts.

“Hey, baby,” Lance said, bending over and scooping Momo into his arms. Heavy, but so fluffy and lovable that the quiver in his arms at the sudden weight after moving all day was worth it. 

Hunk patted Momo’s head, and she purred. “It looks like she likes it here too!”

Lance scratched her under the chin for a second longer before setting her down. She bounded gracefully out of his arms before walking over to the nearest box - the one with his computer monitor and keyboard - and climbing on top of it. She meowed once more, as if to say “I’ll be over here, Dad” (at least, that’s what Lance liked to imagine), and then curled into a ball.

“Such a sweetie baby,” Lance cooed. Then, he cleared his throat, smiling at Hunk and flashing finger guns. “Come on, I’ll give you the official tour.”

Lance led Hunk through the master bedroom to the hallway, showing off the bathroom and dining area. The apartment really was nice, with large arching windows and hardwood floor in the halls and living area. It was small for a house, but, for an apartment, he couldn’t have gotten much better for the same price. The kitchen was equally as beautiful as the rest of the house, with stainless steel appliances and a pretty grey back splash. 

In all, Lance was in love. 

He was going to put his radio in the corner in the living room, his collection of plants in front of the windows - heck, he might even start a small herb garden in the kitchen. His knick knacks from Cuba and family pictures would look great in the hallway. A nice rug. Oriental. Red.

“You know what?” Hunk asked. They had finished their tour and were now seated on the love seat in the otherwise bare living room. “I think this calls for a celebration. Let’s get some takeout. My treat.”

“Hunk, come on now, you spent your one day off helping me move all my shit.” Lance pushed his shoulder gently. “I’m paying. Call up whatever you want, alright? It’s the least I can do, especially for my very best friend.”

Hunk looked a little unsure, maybe even a bit flushed, but agreed nonetheless, pulling out his phone and calling the local Chinese place. While Hunk was ordering, Lance took another look around his apartment. It was still unbelievable. This was his home. He paid the deposit and the rent. It was his. 

His eyes were burning - and not from overwhelming joy.

“Shit,” he hissed, pressing his palms hard against his eyes until he saw exploding galaxies of colors. The watery burn had struck out of nowhere. It was almost like a bad allergic reaction of sorts.

Hunk was off the phone. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s my eyes,” Lance explained, rubbing them furiously now. “Christ, I think I got something in them.”

“Probably dust,” Hunk said with a sympathetic nod. “Come to the bathroom; I’ll help you rinse them out while we wait for the food.”

Lance flushed, embarrassed at the small scene he was making, but allowed Hunk to lead him to the bathroom.

* * *

Hunk stayed until late in the night, eating and joking around as he and Lance watched  _ Howl’s Moving Castle _ . Momo had joined them at some point during the movie, jumping into Lance’s lap and purring as he ran his fingers through her thick hair. After Hunk left, complaining about having to be up early for work - Lance had told him taking the 5am shift at the bakery wasn’t a good idea - Lance showered and readied himself for bed, exhausted.

The next day would be an equally busy one. He had to have everything unpacked so he could start work on Monday. Not to mention he couldn’t stand to live in the chaos for much longer than a day. 

So, pulling the covers over himself, he flicked off his bedside lamp, pulling Momo close and whispering a sleepy, “good night”. 

And as he drifted into a peaceful sleep uninterrupted by a leaking sink or noisy neighbors, he failed to notice the gold eyes peering at him from the darkness at the foot of his bed. 


	2. First Encounters

And busy the next day was. It had taken all day for Lance to unpack, and he was up until late in the night decorating. However, around one in the morning, he was finally able to step back and feel an overflowing, overwhelming sense of pride and home. His scent was already beginning to settle into the bones of the apartment, and, with all of his belongings just how he had envisioned them, he couldn’t be happier.

He had fell asleep just as quickly as he had the first night, fueled by exhaustion, yet he dreamed some of the strangest dreams. It felt as if he was suffocating, not enough to be painful but uncomfortable, and he had awoke, expecting to find Momo there, but he was alone. Frigid trepidation settling in his tailbone like an icy chill, he had opened the blinds to allow the city lights to chase away the darkness that prowled in the corners of the room as he blamed his uneasiness on the fact he was a beta in a strange environment and not the landlord’s tales of lurking ghosts that had crept into the peripheral of his mind. 

The next morning came too quickly, and, though he felt unrested, Lance roused himself from the comforts of his nest. Not all betas, even though with more omega pheromones such as himself, nested, but it had always brought him comfort. It must have been something he picked up from his mother when he was but a young pup.

Letting his feet dangle off the bed, Lance yawned and rubbed his eyes. It was his first day of work, and Allura had already given him a few assignments. Allura, CEO of Altean Biomechanics, was a friend of a friend, of sorts - she was Pidge’s brother’s boyfriend’s girlfriend. A comical mouthful. While she had been more than willing to give Lance a chance at the job, she hadn’t made it easy. The test she had given him had tested not only his programming skills but his soft skills, and it was a job position truly earned. 

Working from home as a programmer was his dream, though, and he had been more than willing to do anything for it. 

But right now? He was tired.

Exhausted.

He needed coffee.

Finally forcing himself to his feet, he slipped a t-shirt over his head, deciding that pants could wait for later, and went to the kitchen to turn on the coffee machine, using the restroom while he waited. When he returned, he went to grab his favorite mug - one shaped like a cat that looked nearly identical to Momo - from the second self of the cabinet beside the sink where he  _ knew _ he had put it while unpacking. 

At least, he thought he put it there.

Because it wasn’t there then.

“The hell?” Lance mumbled to himself, rubbing his eyes. He hadn’t drank coffee yesterday, so the mug wasn’t dirty. He vividly remembered taking it out of the box - the one marked ‘fragile’ that now sat on the counter and was filled with trash - and setting on the second shelf, just tall enough to make him stretch without being too high up. He liked having to reach for his coffee mugs, liked popping his back, and he liked it being right by the sink. 

So where the hell was it?

Lance took a step back from the open cabinet, placing his hands on his hips and standing on his tiptoes. Had he placed it further back?

No, not at the back of the cabinet either. 

Letting out an exasperated huff, he shut the cabinet with more force than necessary. It wasn’t like him to get so worked up over something so insignificant, but, dammit, he put that mug there! And sure, he could just use another one, but they were all still packed up because he had intentions to use his favorite mug like he did every morning. 

Outside, the traffic sped by, horns honking and pedestrians yelling. It was like a mini-New York. 

Lance pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a steadying breath. It was his first day of work at his new job, his  _ dream _ job. He wouldn’t let this piss him off and ruin his mood. 

Forgetting about his cup of coffee for now, Lance stalked to his office, ready to bury himself in his work. However, when he walked into the room, he paused, mouth dry as he stared at his desk where, right beside his mouse, his mug sat.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

* * *

With the morning affairs settled and forgotten, it was easy for Lance to immerse himself in his work. Allura was still testing him out, so, while he wasn’t allowed to do any major work on projects, he was given tasks such as updating some of the coding for the website or double-checking codes. It was tedious work, boring when he was freelancing, but now since he knew he had the chance for greater work, he did it with pride. 

Around five in the afternoon, he logged out of the company task assignment application and leaned back into his computer chair, breathing out a heavy sigh as he took the final sip of his fourth coffee. At his feet, Momo meowed, tapping his foot with a dainty paw.

He lifted her into his lap, pulling out his phone to check his texts. After the morning incident, he had texted Pidge to ask them to meet up tomorrow to look over the history of his apartment. Maybe someone had died there and was now haunting him. It wouldn’t be enough to make him move - hell, he could find the body in the closet and still wouldn’t move - but it would be nice to know. It could even be like one of those anime fanfictions he liked so much where the dorky owner formed a friendship with the ghost and helped them reach the light. 

Clicking through a few spam messages from the stores he had regrettably given his phone number too, he found that Pidge had indeed texted him back, simply saying “K. You’re buying. See you at noon.”

A five dollar coffee was a small price to pay for peace of mind.

* * *

Lance, still feeling uneasy, made his nest before going to bed that night. While he wished he had some familial scents to add to it, it would have to do. At least it was soft. 

Curling up in his bed, he watched the shadows on his wall until he fell into a dreamless sleep.

Or at least, it had started at dreamless.

Then, from the darkness of his mind, a burst of color exploded, and, even in his sleep, Lance registered the heat in his belly, writhing in the grasps of drunken ecstasy that bordered pain. He dreamt of hands, those of an alpha, large and strong, but with sharp nails unlike any human he had ever met, raking down his skin, flaying him open in the best way possible, and, when he did finally wake, his back was still arched off the bed, the thin sheet clinging to him - his other blankets had been pushed away at some point in his struggle - soiled. 

Lance laid there for a moment, breathless and flushed. It was rare he dreamt, especially dreams like that, and, despite the fact he was alone, he couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. 

Once he gathered his composure, he dragged himself from his bed, balling up the soiled sheet and throwing it in the hamper. He would deal with that in the morning. Then, he went to the bathroom to clean himself. 

Flicking on the light, he reached over the sink to grab a rag, eyes flitting to the mirror for only a second. He froze. 

There was something behind him - a large black shadow that hovered in his room.

Lance whirled around, heart leaping into his throat, only to realize his eyes had tricked him. There was nothing there. Nothing watching him

He wet the rag and cleaned himself up, whispering calming mantras to himself to settle his soul. Even then, however, after returning to his nest, he found it impossible to sleep. 

  
  



	3. Helping Hands

“No murders, no suicides - clean slate,” Pidge said, typing away on their laptop. They pushed their glasses up the bridge of their nose before leaning back, arms crossed. Lance nodded, sipping on his fourth coffee. After the incident in the mirror, he hadn’t been able to will himself back to sleep, too afraid that whatever that thing was, if it even existed, it would prey upon him the second he drifted off. 

As soon as the sun had risen enough to shine through the windows and illuminate the room with the soft, warm glow, he had dressed and left the apartment. Walking made him feel better. 

Pidge eyed him, thin lips pressed into a pensive line. Sometimes it seemed like they could read his mind. “Why’re asking all these questions, anyways, huh? Hunk said you loved the place.” 

Lance shrugged, feeling embarrassed now that he had to speak about his nagging concerns. “I think it's haunted,” he told them. “Weird shit keeps happening, man.”

“Weird? How?”

“Well, first of all, my mug was moved. And last night, I woke up and there was something behind me in the mirror.” He left about the part about his  _ interesting _ dream. They didn’t need to know why he woke up, just that he was awake and didn’t like what he saw.”

Pidge hummed, twisting a stand of auburn hair that fell into their face. “Well,” they began before pausing, humming again. They flashed a crooked smile. “You’re probably just uncomfortable being in a new place. It’s an omega thing, and so you probably have that too.”

“Are you telling me alphas don’t feel uncomfortable in different places?”

“I’m not an alpha, now am I? I’m just telling you what we learned in school.” They flicked a straw wrapper, wrinkled and balled up, at him. It bounced off his forehead. “You would know that had you ever bothered to pay attention in gender studies.”

Lance rolled his eyes, stifling a growl behind clenched teeth. He wasn’t normally on edge like this, but he was freaking out, and the last thing he needed was Pidge poking fun at him. “Just...the landlord said there were complaints about the place. Can you see what you can find out about that?”

“I certainly can try.” Pidge pushed their glasses up again before typing furiously. While they bruised themself, Lance looked around the coffee shop. The scent was overwhelming - from baked goods to coffee to the thick, heady scents of alphas to the more delicate scents of omegas like Pidge. There was no scent in particular that caught his attention, though, so resting his head on both his hands, he allowed him to slowly space out until the point he was nearly drifting off. Perhaps a small nap wouldn’t hurt. He was so tired, eyes burning, head pounding, and the coffee wasn’t doing anything but making him jittery. 

Just as his eyes had begun to flutter shut, Pidge jumped up, exclaiming, “Aha! There’s a subReddit for everything!”

Lance perked up. “What’d’ya find?”

Pidge scrolled through for a moment, reading. “So apparently, this thread has been open for about five years now. From the looks of it, only males - regardless of secondary - are affected by whatever it is. Hair pulling, stuff going missing, random bruises.” Pidge trailed off, eyes narrowing. “Oh, yuck, apparently they have like really vivid wet dreams and wake up with hickies and stuff too. Gross.” 

Lance flushed. So he wasn’t the only one. The dream had felt real. The hands, the nails - talons really - all felt so  _ real _ . Half of him had expected to wake up covered in claw marks and bruises. Even now, hours later, he could still feel the phantom hands on him, wrapping around his throat, pinning him down - 

“Earth to Lance,” Pidge said, waving their hand in front of his face. Despite the small pout they boasted, there was the faintest hint of concern in their otherwise plain scent. Pidge used scent blockers for the most part - heavy suppressants too - but every now and then, they’re emotions managed to show through. 

“I’m listening.”

“You sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What did I say then?”

Lance blinked. “You said…”

“That’s what I thought. Pay attention, would ya? I’m doing this to help you.” Pidge huffed, crossing their arms. “Alright, so maybe your claims of a ghost aren’t so dumb after all. I personally would just ignore it - after all, what can the little bastard do to you? - but if you’re that bothered over it, talk to Allura.” They rested their chin on their hand, looking up at Lance. “You know she’s into all that witchy stuff. I’m sure she could help you contact it and see what it wants or whatever.”

Contact the ghost? Lance frowned. He hadn’t even thought of that. Maybe it was just confused, thought it was still alive. Then again, there hadn’t been any deaths in his apartment, so why would it be there? Each possible solution led to a multitude of different questions, each lacking answers. 

He ran a hand through his hair. Maybe talking to Allura would be best. Though, he felt a bit awkward about contacting his boss/best friend’s brother’s boyfriend’s girlfriend (it always amused him seeing how long her title could get) about a ghost problem. 

“Alright, yeah, I think I’ll try that.” Then, smiling, “Thanks a lot for all your help Pidge.”

They gave an unimpressed huff, though their freckled cheeks were flushed. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I didn’t do anything but a quick search. Even you could’ve pulled that off, Lover Boy.” Pidge turned their head to the side, blush still obvious, and began shoving their laptop and belongings into their book bag before hoisting over it over their shoulder. “Alright, thanks for the coffee. I gotta blast though. Let me know how things go with Allura.”

Lance smiled fondly. “See you later, Pidgey.”

* * *

Even as an omega-presenting beta, alphas never really bothered Lance. As the only beta in an alpha family, he had grown up used to the slight difference in disposition - the snarling, the territorialism, the constant raging hormones - yet there was something about Allure that sent a frigid chill down his spine, prompting him to seat up straighter, chin lifted, eyes downcast. An obedient little thing. 

And he hated it.

She was asexual and happily mated to both Shiro and Matt, but there was something about her, whether it be her standing in the company or just the dignified air of authority that enveloped her, that made Lance feel...little. Allura was nice, never pushing anyone around, and the feeling was completely irrational, but he couldn’t help it. 

Which is why, sitting at his laptop with Skype open and his mouse hovering over the call icon, he couldn’t bring himself to press it. If it was a work matter, he wouldn’t mind so much, but to call her and ask about something so silly? 

Embarrassing.

At his feet, Momo meowed, pawing and begging to be picked up. She had been acting weird recently, tending to stick around Lance more than usual, almost as if she was afraid. Hell, Lance was too, though, so he wasn’t sure what kind of protection she expected from him. 

Feeling a little better with Momo in his lap, nuzzling against his neck, Lance, before his mind could get the best of him, pressed the called button. And waited. 

A few seconds later, Allura answered, Shiro and Matt beside her. “Hello, Lance,” she said, eyes crinkling with her smile. Shiro’s arm was around her, his hand resting on Matt’s shoulder where his thumb traced calming circles. 

“Hey, guys,” Lance said. He cleared his throat, teasing his hair. Did he look dumb? Was he slouching? Maybe he should’ve changed into a nicer shirt…

“It’s rare to get a call from you that’s not work related,” Allura said. “Is everything okay?”

Lance sighed. “Well, not really. I have a bit of a problem, and Pidge said you could help.”

Matt straightened up at the mention of Pidge, grinning. “You talked to Pidge today? How are they? They never want to come around anymore - says the house stinks of alpha.”

With two alphas living together, Lance was sure Pidge wasn’t wrong. ‘They’re fine. Busy with work.” 

Matt went to say something else, but Allura interrupted with a gentle smile. “A problem? What’s wrong?”

“Well.” Better to just say it. “I think my new house is haunted.”

Shiro snorted, a gentle laugh. He was built like a typical alpha, broad and bulky, but his demeanor was gentle. Meek even. Maybe that’s why he and Allura got along so well “And you called us?”

Lance flushed, dropping his gaze. “Well, yeah, Pidge said you were into ‘witchy stuff’.”

“That’s more of Allura’s thing, for sure,” Shiro said, nodding. 

“A ghost, you say?” Allura dropped her professional appearance, leaning in close to the camera with sparkling blue eyes. “Fascinating! You want to contact it, I suppose?”

Lance nodded. “Yeah. Figure out what it wants or whatever. Lead it to the light.”

Allura let out a small squeal, bringing both fists up to her chest and clenching her eyes shut. This childlike side of her wasn’t so intimidating, and Lance almost felt silly for ever being unnerved by her. “I haven’t been able to do anything with spirits in awhile. I’ve mostly been working with deities. This will be so much fun!” She paused, a pout forming on her features. “Oh, but there’s so much work to be done. Would you be okay waiting until Saturday?”

Four days. Lance wasn’t sure if he could wait that long, but he plastered on a smile and nodded. “That would be perfect. Thank you so much.”

“No problem, Lance. Talk to you soon.” There was a chorus of farewells from the mated trio before the connection was cut. 

Lance collapsed into his chair, rubbing Momo’s head. “Four days, Mo. What the hell am I supposed to do?”


End file.
